Accidental Avengers: The Alien Incident
by RowanAsterCode
Summary: Clint froze. "...Carter?" The boy looked up at him, tears running down his face. Suddenly, Clint knew why he had locked himself in the bathroom. Carter's normally grey eyes looked back at him, one now silver, and the other, violet. A lock of now purple hair toppled into his face. His body shook with sobs. "What's happening to me?" 1st in Accidental Avengers Series. Comics/Movie.


HEY MATES! How are you? I hope good. Okay, so... another new story. Before finishing even one. I'm sorry, but I'm sort of being forced to do this: I'm got to stop promising regular updates at this point. I love to write, don't get me wrong, but I can't keep a schedule with my unpredictable SCHOOL schedule. So, despite how it may make all my followers and readers mad, and I am very sorry to disappoint. I hope no one refuses to read my stories because of this, but I did need to say it. So on a happier topic! This is the first in a nice long series called- dah dah DAH!- **_The Accidental Avengers_**! Basically this first part- starting with this book- will be about all my OCs- Carter, Elyss, Torunn, Emerson, and Zack, to name my mains, who are very closely followed by Xia, Abbie, and a mystery boy who I am keeping a surprise because I like suspense! Okay, so I can't give out too much information without major spoilers (internet cookies to you if you catch my Doctor Who reference), but I can tell you that when all my characters get together in Avengers, it will seem like they are just being inserted into the movie at first, but it will gradually turn into a bit of an AU. However, until then, no more information will be disclosed :). But anyway, this book takes place a year before the Avengers movie, the major action kicking up around the same time as both Thor and Iron Man 2. The rest... well, you'll just have to wait and see :D.

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Okay, so I tried to make a timeline of the stories in this series and how they overlap, but fanfiction keeps killing my indents and everything so I'll make something on idk polyvore or maybe deviantart and post a link when I get one to illustrate that better. Sorry, mates!

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Disclaimer: I... okay, I own nothing that is recognizable from Marvel (Clint Barton/SHIELD/Coulson/Fury/Barney Barton {whose name I think is ridiculous, so I changed it to Charlie with Barney as a nickname}, etc). But Carter, Xia, and any other OCs BELONG TO ME, as well as the storyline and idea of this story. DO NOT REPOST W/O GIVING CREDIT OR ANYTHING ELSE.

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Enjoy the story!

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**Prelude-**

**The Boy**

Clint Barton hated working the night shift.

He may not have issues with being a SHIELD agent.

He may not have issues with risking his life almost every day.

But he had big issues with working the night shift.

So instead of actually doing what he was supposed to, he was on the phone with his older brother.

"Charlie…" He tried to get his brother's attention away from whatever sport he was talking about (Clint was a secret agent, he didn't have time to watch sports). "Charles…"

"And then Peterson did this awesome…"

"Charles…"

"I mean, it was seriously…"

Clint sighed. "Barney, shut up."

He could hear his brother stop pacing. His voice lowered menacingly. "Don't. Call me. Barney."

Clint chuckled. "I know, Charlie. I had to get your attention, though. You seem to have forgotten- I don't watch sports. I have no time to, remember?" He smirked. "Travel agent?"

Charles laughed, recognizing the code. "Please, Clint. Everyone knows you work for SHIELD." He glanced around. "Well, everyone in the family, that is."

"Agent Barton," someone called.

He turned around, pulling the phone away from his ear.

Phil Coulson looked at him, a skeptical eyebrow and slight smile apparent on his face.

"Clint, aren't you supposed to be doing patrol?"

He stuttered."Well, um, ya see..."

"Your senses are getting weaker," he smirked."Get off the phone. I won't turn you in this time, but don't let me catch you again, got that?"

"Yes, sir."

Coulson turned, walking away with a chuckle.

"Hey, Charlie," Clint amended, raising the phone back to his ear, "Listen, I've gotta..."

_Hello?_

His phone clattered to the ground out of shock.

"What the heck..." he muttered, glancing around. He hadn't used the word 'heck', however. He never did. "Who just..."

_Can you really hear me?_

Clint reached up to his head.

"Who the heck are you, and how did you get in my head?"

_My name's Carter… at least, I think it would be here. As for how I got in your head…_

An urgent series of beeps ran through Clint's brain, closely followed by a surprisingly long string of cuss words from the boy.

_Look, I don't have time for this! Listen, whoever you are, I need your help. Like, desperately._

"How am I supposed to help you? For all I know, I'm talking to a voice in my head. For all I know, I'm goin' insane!"

The boy sighed (his name had completely gone over Clint's head). _Look, I know this sounds insane, but I need you to trust me._

Clint hesitated, but agreed slowly. "What do you need me to do?"

_Look_, he said. A few more beeps, and the boy let off another impressive paragraph of words no teens should know._ I need you to learn and accept the fact I'm not human. Quickly. And I know what you're thinking; I'm not a mutant, either._

The boy was right, of course.

_I need you to find me. Something very bad is about to happen to me, and I need you to find me again. You got that? Find me!_

"Find you?" Clint sputtered. "Why should I find you?"

_Because if you don't, this world will die!_

Clint froze. "What?"

The beeps grew louder, more urgent- more desperate.

_Find me!_

Then the sound of an explosion filled his head.

Clint stumbled forward, disoriented.

"Clint?" He heard a voice come through his phone. "Clint, you okay?"

"Yeah, Charlie," he said, pulling the phone to his ear, still slightly dazed. "I gotta go. Later."

He pressed the end button, ignoring his brother's protests.

Clint sighed, determined, as if a force beyond his control was pushing him on.

He stormed down the helicarrier halls, heading towards the flight deck- and someone very important.

"Director Fury, sir," he called, pushing through the doors and heading towards a quinjet.

The Director turned to face him, a look of irritation creeping up over his face to his eyepatch. "Barton, what do you think you're doing? You're on night duty, remember?"

He pulled the helicarrier hallway keys from his pocket, tossing them to Fury, who caught them, rather reluctantly.

"Emergency, boss," Clint assured him, entering the quinjet. "You can handle it tonight, right?"

He didn't wait for a reply.

Come on, kid- instincts, whatever, he thought. Take me where I need to be.

He threw the jet into gear on the runway, barely paying any attention to what he was doing.

He landed shortly, still going by instinct.

He was probably way more sure of himself than he should've been.

But sometimes instincts can lead you right.

He stepped out, looking around in the fog. Something definitely wasn't quite right here, but he couldn't tell what.

"Kid?" He called. "You here?"

He walked forward, turning on the quinjet's lights as an afterthought.

"You told me to find you," he shouted, more to reassure himself than anything. He kept walking around, randomly, dazedly. "God, I hope I'm not going insane."

But then a light flashed through the haze.

Clint jerked his gaze up, jogging towards the source.

"Hello?" He called out. "Anyone?"

His foot caught on something.

He lurched forward, almost tumbling to the ground next to the object.

"What the bloody…"

He looked around from where he had none-too-gracefully landed on his hands and knees, curious to find the source.

It had to be large, he reasoned, but a little soft. Mostly hard, but soft enough it didn't hurt me much.

It had to be…

Not an 'it' at all.

He looked down at his discovery.

A teenage boy- not human, it seemed. No. Not at all.

But similar.

He looked closely. Violet hair, but no traces of dye. Had to be natural. But it couldn't be, no human had it like that naturally. He was tempted to open the boy's eyes to see the color, as he was curious, but he decided to leave that alone for now. He was thin, scwrany. For a human. But by now, even Clint had placed that he wasn't one. And his ears. Clint had just noticed, but his ears were huge. They were decidedly faun-like; a little like a lamb's with a small nick and a soft point.

His own panic reminded Clint to check if the boy had a pulse. He timidly reached out to check his wrist, assuming he even had a way to check the pulse there. What he felt almost made Clint rear back.

Not just one pulse… not even two, as in Doctor Who with the Time Lords… but three. Three pulses. Three hearts in one body.

Clint reached down again, sure he had been wrong.

No, still three.

But something strange did happen.

Clint's hand was suddenly filled with a burning sensation where it touched the boy. He held back a shout, jerking it away.

"What the heck…?!"

A ripple grew where Clint had touched the boy, spreading over his entire body. His pale skin grew much darker, a shade now matching Clint's own. His violet hair was washed away by a chocolate brown streaked with caramel- again, similar to Clint's. His ears shrunk to human size and shape, and his slender body filled out a bit until it was normal sized for a human.

Clint timidly touched his wrist again.

One pulse.

One weak, human heart.

The boy's eyes snapped open, his chest heaving for air. His grey eyes caught Clint's, fear coursing through them.

"W-who are you?" He panted out, slightly panicked.

"My name's Clint Barton," he assured him. He didn't know why he decided to give out his real name, but he did, and it was too late to take it back. "Don't worry," he told the boy. "I'm not gonna hurt you. What's your name?"

"C-Carter, I-I think," he muttered, slightly relieved, but still on edge.

Clint couldn't help but laugh. "Well, then, Carter-I-Think: I hate to be the downer, but you're hurt and may be unstable." Clint decided to test something out. "I'm going to take you to the hospital, all right?"

"Okay," the boy sighed weakly.

Clint's eyes widened. The boy had sense to him. He's an alien, he should either have to ask what a hospital was, or have immediately said 'no' for fear of the government poking their noses in something they shouldn't.

It was stereotypical, but true.

"Mister Barton?"

He shook his head, looking back at the boy.

"I…" the boy sighed, "I'm not entirely sure why, but… thank you."

Clint softened a little, a tiny smile creeping up his face.

"No problem, kid."

Clint roughly picked him up, none too gentle, despite his intentions.

Carter was unconscious again before they were at the jet.

"Carter, huh?" He spoke to himself as he set him down (again, none too gently) on the med-bed. "Well, at least I'm not insane. Now the question is, after whatever the heck just happened, do you even remember that something's different about you?"

He chuckled, buckling into the captain's seat again.

"Now what to do with you. Can't exactly bring you to SHIELD. They'd probably murder an alien in a heartbeat." He thought for a moment, before picking up his cell again. He tapped in the standard 11-digit (with country code) number.

"Hey, Charlie," he spoke into the phone. A large amount of relieved-but-angry shouts came from the other end. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But hey, listen," Clint asked, looking back at the unconscious boy, "I gotta find a place for someone. You think you could handle him for a little while?"


End file.
